Gelato is divine, Jason's mind declares, as his body melts into the naugahyde-covered bench seat. His eyes are closed as he focuses on savouring the fabulous substance in his mouth. It's not giving him brain freeze, but he's totally forgotten about that particular plan for dealing with all the stupidity currently hurting his head. Instead, it's all about rolling up his eyes behind his closed eyelids and just existing in the moment—which is all about tasting cold, sweet heaven on his tongue.

A soft little chuckle causes him to crack open his eyes and he sees Tim sitting across from him. Smiling. Mostly smiling. It's in his eyes more than anything, and for the world, it looks like he thinks Jason really damned amusing. For his part, Jason finishes his mouthful and then pulls himself upright in his seat before sticking his tongue out at the kid. Then he goes for another spoonful of the mango-flavoured delight. He knows Tim is watching him, but whatever. That so doesn't matter anywhere nearly as much as the need to continue enjoying his new found culinary love.

"And I thought Dick was bad," the kid mutters as he continues to watch Jason enjoying his treat. "You're bordering on pornographic, Jason."

"I'm just that sexy," Jason quips before scoring another mouthful—and yeah, he has finally found his Kryptonite. All a skell will have to do is hand him a carton of gelato and it'll be all over. Heh.

"You're something alright," Tim huffs good naturally before shaking his head. Well that's better than tensing all the fuck up, which is pretty much what the kid's been doing whenever Jason does just about anything. Alright, that's a bit of an exaggeration, but not much of one. Tim has his reasons and, apparently, Jason is the cause of them, but Jason doesn't remember shit all about the kid before meeting him an hour ago. And, since no one can tell him about a lot of important shit, he's just gonna to have to go on wondering.

The kid—Tim—eats like a bird, though he obviously likes the dessert too. Delicate. That word applies to the kid on of a lot of levels. But he's not fragile. Definitely not that. For all that Jason hasn't had the chance to spar with him yet, he can see it. Even with the kid sitting, he can see it. Training.

Of course he's trained; Bruce wouldn't let him out in the costume otherwise. And Jason knows first-hand just how hardcore that training is. How would it have differed for the kid? In Jason's case, it became obvious in short order that his power was his fists and muscles. He had to be some type of bendy to be street-worthy, but he hadn't ever been in Dick's league. Tim, on the other hand, has the bare minimum when it comes to muscle. He looks like he could be a bendy type, but he doesn't really move that way. So...

So, he needs to stop wondering about irrelevancies! Except it's not irrelevant. This is all stuff he's missing. Missed? It's stuff he doesn't remember, so now is a good time to try to recover these memories. Or at least as many of them as the stupid magic shit will allow.

"What kind of training did he give you?" It's a safe enough topic for a public setting. Or so the theory goes. It's a theory Tim is obviously considering himself.

The boy gives a shrug and sits up a little straighter in his seat. "Somewhere between you and Dick, I'd imagine. Dick was part of some of it. He helped me with the acrobatics. And I learned stick weapons from Lady Shiva."

Jason lets out an appreciative whistle. "How did you talk Bruce into allowing that one?" He's ignoring the twinge in his mind that her name seems to trigger. He knows Lady Shiva by reputation, seeing as she's in Bruce's files and all, but he's never met her—which is probably for the best.

The kid is shaking his head. "It wasn't exactly planned. I kind of went AWOL from the approved teacher in France. Then one thing led to another and, well, she is a good teacher."

"If kinda brutal with seriously questionable ethics?" Jason adds with a smile. He's teasing. He thinks he's teasing. Is he about to step on another land mine? That's looking like a possibility when the kid goes very still. But then Tim gives himself a little shake and favours Jason with a sheepish smile.

"Has anyone told you that you have a gift for understatement?" the boy enquires oh-so-innocently. Now Jason really wants to know what that training involved, but he decides to leave it for later. Later is probably better.

If this stupidity is overwhelming to Jason, how is it for everyone else? At least, Jason only has to deal with his own frustration. He doesn't know the kid, having no previous experience with him and no expectations. But Tim knows him, even if Jason doesn't remember it.

And Dick. And Bruce. Bruce will apparently lose his shit over this. Before he can stop himself he's frowning. Something which has Tim sobering fast. Damn it all!

"Just. Thinking of this shit. And Bruce," Jason explains distractedly. The frown turns into an outright scowl, as he regards the half-eaten bowl of gelato. After a moment, he looks up, pinning the kid with a determined gaze. "Do YOU think I should talk to him?"

Dick made Jason promise to not go to the Manor right away. But the more he thinks about it, the more pressing the need to do so becomes. Okay, so maybe some part of him is hoping that Bruce won't be affected by the magic and will actually be able tell him shit, but it's so much more than that. So much that it makes his chest tighten with the need to talk to him.

"Yes, I do. And he needs to talk to you. But, more importantly, you both need to listen ," Tim says quietly, as he watches Jason. Sky blue eyes bore into him. Maybe they're willing him to grab a clue? A clue about what? Jason is the one who actually voices his feelings, unlike a certain emotionally-stunted billionaire.

"Jason." His name, said in a sharp, clipped tone gets his attention. "You need to listen. And you need to really talk. You have issues. You had issues even before you ~~~~" And Jason is grinding his teeth, as whatever Tim says next is lost. Gibberish, stupid, fucking, magically-induced gibberish!

A hand reaches across the table, tapping the surface gently. "Hey, stay with me," Tim says quietly.

Taking a deep breath, Jason focuses on focusing—because yeah, his thoughts are getting kind of chaotic. And angry. And he's clenching his fists under the table. Not good. So fucking not good. Focus! Another deep breath; let it out slowly. Have a third; yes, that's better. He nods to Tim and watches the kid register the change. The boy's hand retreats back across the table as Tim watches him.

"I'm here, I'm here," Jason says, a little shakily.

"Can you tell me what just happened?" The boy is looking at him as if Jason is an interesting species of bug and for that he has to snort a laugh. Laughing is totally better than the alternative. But not too much laughter. Too much and the kid might haul him off to Arkham.

Okay, maybe not that, but Tim is looking worried—which at this point is par for the course, but it is something Jason is really getting tired of seeing.

"I got angry… resentful," Jason explains quietly. His voice is small. It sounds so damned petty to his own ears. But Tim is nodding, accepting it.

"I think... you have a lot of reasons to feel that way." It sounds like the boy is trying to put his thoughts into words, more than actually speak to Jason. "I don't know what they are. Neither you nor Bruce would talk about it, but I got the feeling that whatever it was had been building a long time before everything went sideways ."

Listen; that's what the kid said. Okay, so he'd meant to Bruce, but it's important to listen to him, too. The kid knows things that Jason doesn't… or can't… or what the fuck ever! No, don't get mad, just listen. Take it in and fucking deal with it. He doesn't want to keep being angry. Oh he's not about to do the repression thing that Bruce loves so much, but he just wants to... to have his moods be of his own choosing . He doesn't want to waste his energy on being angry. Not anymore. Anymore?

Deep breath. That's it, that's the way. Deep breath.

"I don't suppose you have any educated guesses," Jason enquires hopefully, but with the distinct feeling that it's an exercise in futility. Tim's headshake confirms his feeling.

"No, sorry. But maybe, you could think about what you DO remember? Life with Bruce? The things that piss you off?" The kid is so earnest, that it makes him look even younger. Which is seriously ridiculous.

"Does he use you as Pedo bait?" Jason blurts out randomly. Uhhhhh.

The kid is blinking at him owlishly and kind of rapidly. But before Jason can start to worry, Tim is giving him a small and very devious smile. "I'm sure I wouldn't know anything about that, mister."

Jason chokes on a horrified laugh. "He DOES?!"

The boy shakes his head, but the little smile isn't going anywhere. "No, but I have fun doing undercover work."

Well he can understand that, even if Jason himself wasn't ever very good at it. Of course, with his arms, there was no way he was going to be in a dress. Not that Bruce didn't try. And... huh. "Did he put you in a dress?" Oh, now the kid's eyes are doing that dancing thing. Good deal. But he still wants to know. "Come on, spill it."

"Once or twice. I've put myself in a dress more than that. And other less-comfortable things if that's what's needed for a case."

That makes Jason's eyebrows rise up into his hairline, because... uh... really? And what would those BE? From the look on Tim's face, he knows EXACTLY what Jason is thinking and has no intention of explaining anything. Sadistic little freak.

In any event, Jason's a fuck of a lot less tense than he had been a minute ago, so he tucks into his melting gelato with a vengeance. But… Oh, damn.

"So. Should I go see him?" Jason tries again, around a mouthful of creamy, mango-flavoured goodness.

"Yes, but give us some time to tell him your situation," Tim says calmly. The kid is so rock steady. In that regard, he's kind of like Alfred. The thought makes him smile. Tim eyes him suspiciously. Playing. The kid is playing with him.

The smile widens as he gets a warm feeling inside. Playing is good. So... "Oh, just mentally fitting you for a butler's suit." That gets him a raised eyebrow, which Jason waves off. "So, how long till you guys tell him?"

"Dick probably put in the call as soon as we left. You should wave at the next street camera we pass."

Jason snorts and DOES get brain freeze, since he's been eating the last spoonful at the same time. Figures. And so does Bruce watching them. He gives his head a shake. "So, does that mean we can head over to the Manor?" It would be the Cave, but no, he's not going to talk about it here. This is too exposed and some things are too ingrained.

"Let me give Dick a call, just in case," the boy says, as he pulls out a sleek cell phone.

Jason motions for him to get on with it. He's starting to get antsy. Waiting has never been his strong suit, but this is even worse. He'd been fine 20 minutes ago with Dick's plan, but now it feels like it's vital that he get a move on with shit. Shit named Bruce. And yeah, the kid was right. He does have issues with Bruce. A lot of them, but he's always convinced himself that it wasn't important, that it didn't compare to what he was doing, to the people he was helping as Robin.

But that's not his situation anymore, right? He's not Robin now, so it's not like Bruce can fire him. Jason can just carry on, whether Bruce likes it or not. That thought gets a smirk from him. His expression widens when he sees Tim eyeing him (that's kinda going to become their thing, isn't it?). Whatever had happened before between them doesn't matter. Not really. Tim is willing to make an effort to start over and Jason has no choice but to do so. Even so, the way Tim reacts does have some amusement value. Best to think of it in those terms.

Really, the idea of what he might have done in the past he cannot remember is something he refuses to dwell on. Maybe that's not a good thing, but it's the best he can do. There are... things inside him. Things he's tried to ignore, telling himself they weren't relevant. Things that come from a time when he was alone and angry and sure he'd not see his next birthday. Things from a time from before he met the Bat.

"Bruce is out of town," Tim says, breaking into Jason's runaway thoughts. "But Alfred will talk to him as soon as he's back. It's not the sort of thing any of us want to do over the phone," he adds.

Jason nods absently. It takes a moment for Tim's words to really register. Alfred knows. Well, he knew that before, but... ALFRED knows. And he misses Al. Maybe the old Butler can help fill in the blanks. After all, the man is a power in his own right. Maybe that magic won't be able to stand up against his butler powers of awesomeness! Okay, that is a seriously stupid thought, but he's back to grinning and it is worth a shot. At this point, he's willing to try anything.

"You got enough for a cab?" he asks Tim suddenly.

The boy gives him an "I'm not sure if I trust you not to turn psychotic" look again. "Yes," comes the slow, cautious reply.

"Come on, I gotta go see Al. He always knows how to make things make sense."

"Uh, I'm not..."

"If nothing else, you know he'll give us cookies." Tim is frowning at him. It's not quite a scowl, but he's clearly not impressed with Jason's reasoning. Or maybe he thinks that the reason is less than honest? Jason tries to hold back his grin, but it's hard. He doesn't want Tim to distrust him. He doesn't want anyone to distrust him. At least not... not family. He's thinking of Tim as family without even questioning it.

"I miss him," Jason explains glumly. Will he forever be judged for things he can't even fucking remember? Stupid question; he knows the answer is "yes," cuz that's just how the world works.

Tim is nodding slowly. The expression on his face is not one of sympathy (and thank God for that!), but it is one of understanding. Hopefully it's one of understanding.

"Besides, you know that Al can shoo us out before Bruce even gets in the driveway if need be." Jason's not sure how he does it, but the man has an amazing sixth sense about where people are and what they need.

"Alright," Tim agrees slowly. "Just let me call him."

Jason does not jump up and down or punch the air, but it's a near thing. He can't stop grinning from ear to ear. He waits patiently as the kid raises his cell phone once more. It's kind of interesting, listening to half a conversation.

"Hi Alfred." A pause. No doubt the butler is saying something polite and properly cordial. "Yes, he's right here and he wants to see you." Another pause. "Yes, you, not Bruce." A longer pause and Tim glances at Jason. What is the butler saying? "That's pretty much what he said," Tim replies, still eyeing Jason. Jason feels his own eyebrow quirk in response. "That would be very nice, thank you, Alfred."

Jason eyes Tim as the youth disconnects and pockets the phone. "He said there'll be cookies waiting," Tim explains as he stands up.

That's all the incentive he needs to clamber out of the booth and stand there, bouncing on his toes as he waits for Tim do the same. "Alright!" More than a few heads turn his way at his outburst, but he really doesn't care. He doesn't grab Tim's arm, but only 'cuz the kid is already moving under his own power. Without looking back, Jason heads for the door and stands on the curb. Raising his hand, he sets about hailing a cab.

He's about ready to scream when the third one passes him by, but then Tim is there, raising his own hand. Jason glances over at the upraised hand and, heh, it's holding a gold card. Sure enough one of the insane cabs cuts across four lanes of traffic before coming to a screeching stop at the curb. Jason doesn't question it; he just opens the back door and climbs in. Tim follows at a more sedate pace and gives the cabby the address for Wayne Manor.

The cabby doesn't even blink and they take off at top speed. Jason is practically vibrating in the back seat, and this seems to amuse Tim no end. "You look like you really need to go pee," he says. Jason scowls and tries to still himself by sheer force of will. It works for about three minutes.

The ride is way too long. He keeps thinking about all the routes he would have taken on his bike and how it wouldn't require even a fraction of the time. Of course, most of that would be very illegal and involve places a sedan wouldn't fit. Crossing his arms over his chest, he leans back into the seat with a huff.

Tim is looking at him, he can feel it. He's getting used to the kid's eyes on him, that feeling of being mentally dissected. Still, he does just about jump out of his skin when a gentle hand rests on his shoulder. Looking over he can see the kid's expression: a mixture of amusement and concern.

Jason just gives a little shrug, followed by a full body shake. He really needs to get a hold of himself.

Finally, they are pulling up to the main gates and that's when the nerves start all over again, damn it. What the fuck is wrong with him? It's AL, of all people—the one guy that can make everything right just by having a plate of cookies at the ready and listening.

But, at the same time, that very ability is what worries Jason so. He doesn't want to disappoint the man. That, more than anything Bruce could say, would tear his heart out. And if everything that HASN'T been said is any indication, he has the horrible feeling he's been a disappointment many times over. Fuck!

His breathing is coming faster as he gets out of the cab, leaving Tim to settle up with the driver. Jason stands on the bottom step and looks up at the imposing double doors. What happens once he's inside? Does he dare find out? As long as he stays out here, he can pretend whatever the hell he wants, but as soon as he goes in, as soon as he sees Al, he won't be able to pretend. Does he have the guts?

Closing his eyes, he focuses on slowing his breathing. Hyperventilating isn't going to help anything. When he opens his eyes again, the cab is gone and Tim is just standing beside him, waiting. Squaring his shoulders, Jason nods to himself and heads up the steps. Of course, when he gets to the top, he's not sure if he should knock or just walk in. He remembers this being his home, but apparently, it hasn't been his home for a while.

Tim solves the dilemma by opening the door for him and walking in. Okay, then. Following the kid inside, Jason looks around. It's pretty much the same. There are a few changes about what painting is where and the like, but otherwise, it's the same. Jason isn't sure how he feels about that. Shouldn't it be noticeably different with all the time that's passed and the shit that's happened? Especially with the whole 'being rebuilt' thing?

He's pondering that with a bit of a scowl, when Tim leads him into the kitchen. As Jason reaches the doorway, he stops. Looking around, he spies the butler as he pulls out yet another tray of piping hot cookies from the oven. Two more batches are already arranged on cooling racks. When the man straightens and looks their way, Jason is torn. Does he flee or does he stand his ground and face whatever anger Alfred may have toward him? Except that Al doesn't do anger, not really. He does that quiet disappointment thing and that is so much worse.

But when Alfred looks at him, there is a quiet smile on his lips as he takes off his oven mitts. "Ah, there you are, Master Jason, Master Tim. Please, come and have a seat." He motions the boys to the table, where a large plate of cookies awaits them in the center.

Tim is already heading for the table, which drives home the fact that Jason has been standing there like an idiot. Hurrying over, he takes a chair that allows him to watch the butler. Absently he reaches for a cookie (which turns out to be peanut butter, so good deal) and begins munching mechanically.

He doesn't miss the look the old Brit and Tim exchange. Crap. He doesn't want to fucking make them worry. Or doubt his sanity. He gives himself a shake. But before he can say anything, Alfred is speaking.

"I imagine this must all be very... perturbing, Master Jason," the quiet words are like a soothing balm. Al understands. Of course, he understands. There never should have been any doubt. He feels himself nodding, because yeah, that is definitely one way to put it. The other ways would likely have Al admonishing him about language. "That is very understandable, and something I will do what I can to ease."

Jason has no idea what to say when the man comes over to stand beside him and places a cool hand on his shoulder. It doesn't stay there long, but the message is clear. Al has his back and that means the world to him.

While he's not exactly floating on cloud nine, a lot of tension drains out of him and it's infinitely easier to breathe. He can actually taste the cookie he's munching on and it's freakin' awesome. In that moment, he's sure he can handle whatever the world throws at him.

He really should know better than to tempt fate.

The doorbell rings and the butler excuses himself. Jason glances at Tim, who shrugs. Bruce wouldn't use the doorbell. Nor would Dick, for that matter. Maybe it's someone from Wayne Enterprises? He honestly has no idea, but whatever it is, it can't be that bad, or Al would have hustled Tim and him out, real quick like.

So he doesn't feel bad about helping himself to another cookie. He has a third stuffed in his mouth, when a mildly-frowning Al returns. The butler's expression sets off all kinds of warning bells and Jason's hands are itching for... a batarang? He's not sure, he just knows he doesn't have it and that makes him feel naked. Whatever, he'll still go to town on whoever's making Alfred unhappy.

"Master Jason, it seems you have a visitor," come the calm, clipped words. He looks behind Al as the butler moves out of the doorway and, sure enough, there is a man in a beige trench coat, walking in like he owns the place.

The newcomer is someone Jason thinks he should know. Someone from the files? It would have to be an ally, right? No way Al would let one of the Gotham rogues in. Jason swallows his mouthful and frowns at the stranger. He's tall, with reddish brown hair and a damned skunk stripe down the middle. It's probably supposed to look dapper but Jason thinks it's stupid. Actually everything about the guy grates on his nerves. Black eyes stare right at Jason and it starts to piss him off. However, before he can say anything, the man breaks the silence himself.

"Jason, it's time we got started on your magical studies."